Strays
by Indigo Tantarian
Summary: Chell had been living outside for seven years when the stranger with mismatched eyes and wild hair began to follow her, always staring, and muttering to the bulky thing in the bag on his back... And at first it was unsettling, but soon she saw that he was like her in more ways than she had realized. (slight Chellmann)


**Strays**

The first time she saw the ragged man staring at her from the alley across the street, Chell didn't think much of it. She went about her business, pointedly ignoring him. There were all sorts of people in the outside world.

She'd been out of Aperture for… maybe seven years at that point. As soon as she had gotten the hell away from the horrible shed in the wheat field, not even really knowing why she brought the Companion Cube with her, she had looked for signs of other humans. About two days' walk to the south had led her to a small road, and she followed it. The first time she heard a car approaching, she leapt aside, groping for the portal gun that wasn't there. It had driven past, and she once again scooped up the heavy cube and kept walking.

She had fuzzy memories of the world from before. Just little things now and then, slipping out between the cracks in the thick barriers Aperture had created in her. Her hazy recollections helped her avoid staring TOO much when she finally reached the town. It was hard, though. The cars, streets, and concrete buildings didn't impress her much, but the PEOPLE…

There were people everywhere. There must have been a hundred. Maybe more. Walking around, going in and out of the buildings, carrying things, talking to each other… Chell had kept to the edges at first. She slept outside of town, keeping out of sight, scrounging around for whatever food she could find without stealing it, whether it be acorns or bugs or something in a trash can that smelled good.

Eventually she had been approached. And she felt ridiculous, like a feral dog, but she honestly didn't KNOW when she had last seen another human being. But there were kind, patient people who offered her food and shelter, who asked about her but didn't press too far, and who were willing to show her how to function in society. Apparently it wasn't unheard of for someone to wander in with no past and no idea how to make their future. And no ability to speak. No, there had been others in the past. There were others NOW, and she had sometimes met them, and each of them would look at her, and she back at them, and they would share the understanding that they had nothing they wanted to share between them.

It got easier. It just took time. Chell had spent one night in a room in someone's home, and in the morning she had struggled through gestures that politely thanked the family, but made it clear that she wouldn't be back. It was too strange, too other. And too enclosed. She didn't want to sleep in a closed-off room.

With some trial and error, and some help that she didn't really want but decided it was best to accept, she built herself a home outside of town. It was small, and it had only one room, but it had windows and space and security. There was a pump and a wood-burning stove, and candles. The town had electricity, and a few people had offered to set up a system of wires for her, but she had declined. She learned to get along without it, and nothing had ever made her more proud. She learned to hunt and knit, and began to trade or sell what she killed and made. She planted seeds in the spring, and began to ponder getting some animals. A couple of chickens and a goat, maybe.

But she kept to herself, because it was what she knew, and because the ONE TIME she hadn't, he had turned on her.

She didn't blame him. She still missed his constant stream of words sometimes. She could almost forgive him. But it didn't matter.

The haggard figure in gray wasn't unique, really. Plenty of people stared, and not just at her. Because they were curious or lost in thought. Or lost in a drugged haze. Or in their own minds. Or entirely out of their minds. As long as they only stared, it was harmless, and Chell had learned to ignore it. If she could ignore her entire environment and an all-powerful supercomputer watching her, a few strange people here and there were nothing.

But she kept seeing him. Not frequently, just every few days. Always on the edges, never in a crowd. Middle-aged, possibly, but covered in so much grime and wild black hair that it was hard to tell. His mouth often moved subtly, as if he were whispering something. Wearing some sort of thin, long, grubby coat, with a bag of some sort on his back. He was obviously another person running from some horror in the distance, shying away from all who approached him.

But always, he was watching her. She never saw him watching anyone else like that. Like her own personal ghost, haunting her. And it made her skin crawl.

Once when she caught him peering out from around the corner of a building, she had whirled and turned her fiercest glare on him and taken one threatening STOMP forward, because WHY did he have to WATCH her like that!? His eyes had gone wide, and she noticed they were two different colors in the split second before he turned and ran. He had a bad limp, but he still managed to move quickly.

And suddenly she felt horrible, because she had been like that, and it was TERRIFYING to be among people after… well, she had no idea what he had been through, but obviously something bad. She was making it harder for him.

He didn't reappear for a few weeks. She thought he'd moved on.

But then she came into town with a string of small raccoons in her hunting bag, and there he was, backing hurriedly away behind a crumbling wall.

Chell stopped. She waited until his eyes lifted. And she gave him a slight nod before continuing on her way.

She didn't see him stare after her until long after she had passed out of sight, then carry on one side of a conversation.

He began appearing more after that, and she began to acknowledge him with a nod or a twitch of her eyebrows or a tilt of her head. He began getting closer.

One day she caught him dozing in the dying sunlight on her way home from buying eggs. She paused and took a step towards him, mostly to be sure he wasn't dead. He was half-curled around something bulky in his bag, and looked pretty awful

He shot up guiltily and his eyes widened. He uttered a strangled noise, then doubled over in a fit of coughing. She waited for him to stop, and when he finally subsided into raspy gasps, she gestured to herself and then placed a hand over her mouth, then her throat, and shook her head.

He coughed and choked again, but then he hesitantly gave a little nod. She noticed he was trembling, and suddenly realized he was very thin. Something made her take another step forward, and his eyes dropped and he backed away, still trying to clear his throat.

Helping another person was a rather foreign concept to Chell. Most of her memories involved being alone. She'd helped Wheatley, and GLaDOS, but that was different. Not to mention, it hadn't ended well for her in general.

She began to leave him bits of food if she had any to spare. Once she scared off a group of scruffy teenagers who were creeping towards him with trouble in their eyes. He didn't look as if he could defend himself much, though of course she could be wrong.

As fall wore on, he began to get closer. She set up a small table at the weekend market to sell wild game, scarves, and hats, and he perched on the hill in the distance, watching. Then behind the building a few streets over. Then across the street. It ceased to be disturbing, and became just a part of life. He was never threatening. He always just stood, watching, clutching his bag, moving his lips from time to time.

Chell had seen much worse in the years she could remember.

One day as she was packing up, the sky was dark and big raindrops were starting to fall. She quickly wrapped her woolen items in plastic and stuffed them in her bag. Then she looked up. The man stood under the awning on the side of a building.

She pointed to the sky, then to him, and put one hand over her head, then tilted her head questioningly.

He stiffened a bit, then nodded, taking a step back.

She paused. Of course he would have shelter. Not that she would be able to do anything about it if he didn't. She wasn't about to invite a stranger into her house. Slowly she nodded, and turned towards home. His mismatched eyes followed her until she was gone.

The next day when she was walking in the hills, she spotted him wringing out his stained coat down by a ditch. She frowned and headed down, slowing when he noticed her, and stopping a good distance away. She pointed at him and his coat, then made the roof-gesture and pointed to the sky.

He lurched and coughed again. "…Flooded," he rasped out, followed by more coughing.

She stared at him, unsure what to do. She gestured again to his coat. The rest of his clothes looked wet, too.

He waved a hand weakly and shook his head. He wrung a few more drops from the coat and stared at her, and his troubled eyes lightened a bit.

Then she glanced down and saw it. On a rock, sitting on top of his damp bag. A small Weighted Companion Cube. Her eyes widened in shock, and before she knew it she was racing away from the strange man with his bedraggled clothes, his odd eyes, and his horrible cube. She heard him call something and start coughing, but she didn't stop. She had to get away.

…Back home. Where her OWN cube awaited.

She didn't stop until she had bolted the door behind her, and even then she spent… probably twenty minutes just peering out the window. In case a haggard figure limped into sight. She didn't know what exactly she would do if he did.

At last she began feeling ridiculous, and turned back to her large room of a house. There, across from the bed, was her Companion Cube. Her daily reminder of That Place. She also had her testing jumpsuit and long-fall boots, but those were packed away in a box under the bed, never to be looked at.

She could leave.

The thought slipped in without warning. And she COULD, it was true. It wouldn't be hard. This house was the only tie she had to the land, and it would be a pain to find or build another, but she could do it.

…But no. She had been here first. This was HER place now, and she had carved out a niche for herself, and the people had come to accept that she didn't speak, and she didn't HAVE to leave. HE should leave, that terrible specter of Aperture, haunting her, watching her, never explaining himself…

That night while she ate dinner, her eyes still frequently strayed to the windows. She stayed up late reading by candlelight, and shoved a chair under the doorknob before finally curling up to go to sleep.

When she woke up in the morning, the first thing Chell saw was her Companion Cube. As always, it was sitting in the corner, motionless.

_ The Enrichment Center reminds you that the Weighted Companion Cube will never threaten to stab you, and, in fact, cannot speak._

She shuddered and sat up.

Had he been a test subject, that strange man out there? Did he have his own orange jumpsuit and long-fall boots stashed away somewhere?

Had he stumbled into Aperture by mistake? No, that was impossible. Impossible that he would get out again. And definitely not with the cube. Why would a normal person bring that with them?

That thought made her smirk a little, looking at her own cube. A normal person WOULDN'T bring it along. Obviously he wasn't normal.

No one came out of there normal.

It made her wonder. She had always thought she was the only one to ever escape. But if he had managed it too, maybe there were others out there somewhere. Wandering the Earth, carrying their Companion Cubes. She wondered where they might be now. …And she really had no desire to take the trouble to find out.

Still, if another Aperture survivor was right here… it wouldn't be any effort at all to learn more. And if it turned out to be a bad idea, well, she had complete confidence that she could best him in any fight. She could probably best him in standing up to a gentle breeze, from the look of him.

Armed with new perspective, Chell set out to town again. She bought some supplies, then headed back to fix a leak in the roof. Along the way she collected some wet wood that had been washed into the path, and lay it out to dry in the weak sunlight. She climbed up and patched the roof. There was no sign of the man with the Companion Cube, and though at first she didn't plan to go out of her way to look for him, by the time the sun was high she had changed her mind.

The ditch where he had been wringing out his clothes would be the best place to start, she reasoned. If he had a place he stayed regularly, he wouldn't have gone far from it to dry off.

Sure enough, some exploration revealed a cluster of boulders with some wide boards stretched over them. She hesitated and knocked a smaller rock on a bigger one, but there was no answer, no movement from inside. She peered in, not wanting to intrude too far. Inside she could see where water had washed straight through, down the slope. She could also see lines and shapes on the rocks inside. She almost crawled in to get a good look, but that would be too much of an invasion of privacy.

Chell combed the surrounding area and the town, to no avail. At last she was thinking it might just be better to wait until he revealed himself again, when she caught a glimpse of movement in the distance.

There was a figure sitting on a pile of rubble overlooking the lake that may as well have been an ocean. Slowly, Chell approached. As she got closer, she recognized the wild hair, the hunched back, and the clunky object in the bag. The cube.

The ground was beginning to dry out, but its moisture still softened Chell's already silent tread. As she picked her way slowly up the hill, his voice became audible. It was raspy and rough, but stronger than it had been when he'd spoken to her.

"…That was… no, that's why I got out of there in the first place! If I can't… No, I'm serious. I might as well go back there."

He paused, tilting his head a little.

"Of course I'm serious. At least I know I can live there. It's been too long…"

His head lowered.

"I know."

Chell looked around warily. It was just him and the cube sitting on the hilltop.

"It isn't your fault," he murmured, his voice softening. "Don't blame yourself." He reached over to touch the edge of the cube sticking out of the cloth bag.

Chell was suddenly overcome by an awkward feeling, which was silly, because he… he was apparently talking to the cube. No need to feel like she was eavesdropping on an intimate moment. She snorted softly at herself.

He leapt a foot in the air, twisting around, and scrambled back from her. She quickly put up her hands to show she meant no harm. He was breathing hard, and his odd eyes were wide with panic.

Slowly, Chell pointed down at the cube.

The man's face reddened and he glanced down at it for the briefest of seconds before looking back at her. Then, as if something had caught his attention, he looked down at it again. He pursed his lips and looked slowly back up at her once more.

For the first time in a long time, Chell found herself really wishing she could vocalize her thoughts. Gestures were good enough for getting what she needed, but talking about things that weren't immediately present in this time and place were difficult. She gestured to herself, then the cube.

"I wasn't…" the man rasped quickly. Then he stopped, his eyes darting back to the cube, and he gave a quick shake of his head that was almost too subtle to notice.

Chell frowned a bit. She pointed at him, then the cube, and waved her finger between the two.

His face froze and he quickly ducked down to bundle the cube up in the bag again.

She held up a placating hand, and again pointed to herself, the cube, and then back towards her house. She hesitated, then pointed at him and pointed off in the other direction, towards the wheat field. Out of sight but always present. And she gestured to herself again. Unconsciously, when her hand fell to her side again, it curled into position as if holding the portal device again.

He watched her gestures, dread and shame plain on his face. She couldn't be sure how well she was communicating, and wished she had brought her notepad along. Not that she really liked to use it, but it would be very helpful here.

The two stared at each other, neither one sure how to proceed.

Then his head twitched down towards the cube again. Chell looked at it too, then back up at him. She pointed to herself, his cube, and made two angles with her thumbs and forefingers. She estimated the size of his cube, then spread them farther apart, to about the size of hers.

He stared at her.

She sighed, shoulders slumping. This would be so much easier if she could speak. She didn't normally care. She hadn't WANTED to speak in ages. She had stopped trying. There hadn't been anyone who would understand all the things that clung to the edges of her mind, no matter how she tried to keep them out.

At last she gave a little shrug and glanced at him once more before turning and walking slowly back down the hill. When she looked back at the bottom, he was still watching her. She saw his head tilt down to the cube. Their eyes met once more before she headed back home.

It was two days before she saw him again, but he didn't look quite so bedraggled as he stood under the flaming orange tree with the cube on his back. The nights were getting longer and colder, and she wondered if he had someplace warmer to go than the muddy rocks with a board over them. She nodded to him, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded back. Her heart rose a bit, because even if she STILL couldn't communicate articulate thoughts, or even simple words, at least… there was a sentiment being exchanged.

She never saw him near her house, though she suspected he knew where it was. He allowed her that privacy and space, even if he was starting to practically follow her everywhere else. She felt a little guilty that she had gotten so close to his personal space when he wasn't around, though she had no way of knowing if he had crept closer to HER house when she wasn't there. He probably had at some point.

She was leaving town one day, a sack of food and a bolt of cloth on her back, and he was perched on a low wall nearby. The wind was bitter, and the scent of winter was in the air. She was wrapped in a scarf and hat, and some clumsy mittens she had made (gloves were a bit too complicated). As she walked by, a particularly strong gust tore down the street, and she slowed, bracing herself against it.

The frail man wasn't so lucky, and he rocked and flailed, nearly falling over.

Chell stopped. She turned and walked up to him, and stood looking at him from a couple feet away. He eyed her warily.

She gestured around and wrapped one arm around herself, pulling her scarf tighter with another.

His sunken eyes were lidded, and he nodded shortly.

She paused again and pointed to the rip in his grubby jacket, where the seam had broken and the left arm of the coat was nearly completely off.

He shrugged, shivering a bit and not looking at her.

Chell frowned and took a step closer. His eyes widened and he took a step back, his legs hitting the wall. She looked towards home, then back at him and jerked her head that way. He gulped, and she waved her hand as well.

He slowly shook his head, then repeated the motion over and over, quickly. His eyes were wide and wild.

She stepped back again, eyeing him. Then she narrowed her eyes. In a single movement she tore off her hat, scarf, and lumpy mittens, and tossed them at him. He nearly fell backwards over the wall, but she was already striding away.

He looked quickly from her retreating figure to the woolen items on the ground, and back. Then back over his shoulder.

"I know," he said softly. "But…"

He paused, listening.

"I don't…" Another pause. "Do you really think so…?"

After a few seconds, he almost smiled into the silence, though the expression quickly dropped again. "It's a nice thought, but I'll just get them filthy. The hat definitely won't fit. I don't…"

The wind blew sharply, straight at his face, and he sucked in his breath. Slowly, shaking hands picked up each article of clothing. They were the green of a pine tree, and warm and soft. The smelled like… like her. He hadn't known her scent until just now. Slowly, he wrapped the scarf around his neck, put on the mittens, which were a bit small, and pulled the hat over his head. It didn't quite fit either, but he immediately began to feel warmer.

"I can't do this," he whispered into the wind. He paused, then just shook his head and limped off towards the ditch outside of town.

The next day he was waiting just where the path to her house met the main road. He had the scarf neatly folded, with the hat and mittens stacked on top. It was such an organized bundle that he looked strange holding it, with his wild hair and torn, stained clothes.

Chell had a new set of knitted gear today, this time in dull blue. Not like Wheatley's bright blue optic (and she STILL couldn't help thinking of him when she saw the right shade of blue). Like the lake on a clear day.

The man swallowed nervously and held out his pile to her. She took a step closer, then shook her head, gesturing around and pulling her scarf closer.

"Please," he rasped, offering it again. "It's… too small anyway." His voice trailed off.

She looked up at him critically. She was just a bit on the short side without her long-fall boots, and he was significantly taller. His trembling, bony fingers were a good deal longer than hers. And yes, even with the untamed mass of hair aside, his head was larger than hers. She gave a short nod, but held up her hand to him and continued walking. After a moment she heard uneven footsteps following her.

"There's your shadow again," the toothless old man who sold dry goods remarked when Chell came into his store. She nodded, peering up at the shelves. "Awful creepy, that one. Oh, sure, we get all sorts here. But I tell ya, most of them don't pick just one person to follow like that unless they mean trouble."

Chell looked over at the old man, then out the window. The man with the cube had come over to this side of the street, his eyes darting around everywhere, shying away at every sound. He had reluctantly put the scarf, hat, and mittens back on in the face of the chilly wind. She shook her head and pointed to a bag of flour.

"You just be careful, now. You need somebody to run him off, you just say the word. And you might want to think about letting somebody walk you home. Just to make sure you get there safe and sound."

She shook her head again. The more time passed, the less likely such a scenario seemed. And honestly, Chell suspected she could handle herself just fine. Not everyone out here had been kind to her. The day she had to resort to letting someone else protect her was the day she had stopped breathing.

Chell looked over at the dark-haired man as she exited the store, then walked over to the hardware store. He shuffled after her, a few yards away. Then to the doctor, for some cleansing paste for wounds that she couldn't ever seem to get right, even though she knew the ingredients. Through all her errands, he followed her, watching.

As she finally made her way back, her bag full and the remaining items precariously balanced in her arms, she stepped down a little further than she had intended and two bags slipped down to the ground. She sucked in her breath and began to crouch down, though how she would pick them up with her hands full, she didn't know.

There was a hurried shuffle, a pause, then the man had quickly scooped up the bags. He stood there, looking like he might flee at any moment, but clutching the bags tightly. She looked at him for a moment. Then she nodded and continued walking. And he followed her. All the way to her house, though as it came into sight he lagged further and further behind. She had to set down her armload to unlock the door, and he hurriedly added the bags he carried to the pile. They both straightened up and regarded each other. The gray eyes were thoughtful and calculating, and the mismatched ones cautious. Then Chell opened the door, still looking at the strange man who followed her everywhere. She bent to pick up some of her bags, leaving a few outside while she went in.

He didn't take the bait, but just stood there looking in. She left the door open for a while, though it was starting to get chilly. At last she made eye contact, and walked over to lay a hand on her Companion Cube. His face twisted this way and that, and he slowly backed away. He pulled off the scarf, hat, and gloves, and set them awkwardly on the pile.

She didn't see him the following day, but she mostly stayed inside, cooking and knitting. It felt good to have her hands busy and let her mind wander.

As the sun sank, though, and the gray sky bore down lower promising snow, she looked out the window at the wind whipping through the trees. It was probably the coldest day of the year so far. It was likely to get worse soon.

Chell's eyes narrowed. She bundled up in her coat, hat, scarf, and another pair of rather lumpy mittens, and set out, locking the door behind her.

When she reached the ditch, the sun was down. A deep chill had settled, and with it came frost. The first few snowflakes began to drift down from the sky.

There was a tiny trickle of smoke seeping out from between the rocks and boards of the little shelter, and Chell made her way down the slope. Inside she could see him hunched up, leaning against his cube in front of a small, sputtering fire that was more smoke than flame.

This was an invasion of privacy that she doubted he would appreciate. But it was also freezing out here. She banged on a board, then had to push it back into position.

He leapt and scrambled and stared out at her, eyes wide.

"Wh…" He broke into a coughing fit, and couldn't continue.

Chell beckoned to him. She pointed up at the sky, then caught some snow on her mitten and held it out to him. She took a step backwards.

When he had gotten the coughing under control, he quickly shook his head. She took a step forward and he backed away, his back pressed to the wall. Her eyes narrowed, and fell on the Companion Cube.

…She could probably sweep it up and be gone before he could even move. Then he'd definitely follow her. But looking into those wild eyes, she knew that would be a bad idea. Possibly the worst thing she could do. She forced herself to relax a little, and held up an apologetic hand. She pointed at him, and at his cube, and beckoned again.

Again, he shook his head hard.

'PLEASE,' she mouthed, holding out her hand.

He clung to the cold stone behind him and continued to shake his head.

Her face set into a frown and she jerked her finger up at the sky, then down at the weak fire.

He swallowed and closed his eyes, shaking hard and seemingly trying to melt into the rock.

With a great effort, Chell exhaled slowly. She took out her little notepad and pencil, and scribbled while he trembled. He looked up again when he heard her rip off a page. She set it lightly on the cube and backed out the opening again, into the wind and the snow.

He didn't move for a moment, but then he crept with agonizing slowness towards it. Eyes still on her, he picked up the paper.

'I need to know about you and… Aperture.' There were a number of words scratched out before the last one.

He stared out at her, hair whipping around the hat and scarf. She had to be freezing, but she stood steadfast, her jaw set in the picture of stubbornness.

Of tenacity.

The fire blew out.

He gathered his frayed nerves and took a halting step forward.

Chell nodded shortly, and again gestured to the cube, to him, and waved him to follow her. She turned and took a few steps before glancing back. He had stuffed the cube into his bag and slung it on his back. Her face relaxed a fraction, and she nodded to him before continuing out into the night. Every now and then she would look over her shoulder and he would be there, trailing behind.

By the time she got back to her house, snow was beginning to accumulate. Numb fingers fumbled with keys in the dark, but at last she stepped through the door and turned to her shadow.

He got as far as the step before he stopped, just staring in at the floor. The house had been warm all day, and now it was quickly filling with cold, and he just stood there, but if she tried to force anything he'd run. He might run anyway.

She stirred the ashes in the stove, poking some charred wood to the center and placing heavy logs around it and smaller twigs over the top. She crumpled up some paper and stuffed it into the middle, then turned back to the door.

He had taken a few steps inside, but then stopped. His eyes darted around in the darkness. Snow was swirling in behind him. Chell frowned.

He jumped a little and looked over his shoulder, mumbling something inaudible. He spoke a few times, too low to catch any words, then heaved a deep breath and closed the door behind him. Chell immediately took out some matches and lit the stove, then began lighting candles on the table, where she usually worked. When she was finished, she turned back to him… to find him staring blankly.

She looked at him thoughtfully, then slowly went over to pick her Companion Cube up from the corner, and bring it next to the table. She set it down where the light of the candles from the table was still good, and close to the stove. Then she took a loaf of the bread she had baked earlier in the day, and a few late apples that were starting to go bad. She took a jug of water and some cups from a shelf. She sat cross-legged on the floor by the cube, set the food and water down as far as she could stretch without moving much, then sat back and looked up at the man.

He shifted uneasily, looking around into every shadow. Now and then he coughed. Twice he flinched a little and turned his head over his shoulder to quickly mutter something, then turned back looking terribly ashamed.

Chell took her notepad, paused thoughtfully, then wrote, 'Does your cube speak?' She held the paper up to him.

He crept closer and picked the pad from her hand, careful to keep his fingers far from hers. He tilted it to the light so he could read it, then turned a deep crimson. His head twitched back a few times, then he gave a small nod.

She held out her hand for the notepad again, and wrote, 'Does mine?'

When he read that, he looked at her oddly. He looked over at her cube for a long moment, then shrugged and shook his head. "I can't hear it," he rasped, and coughed.

Chell stared at her cube for a while, then gave it a short pat before turning back to him. 'Who are you?'

He swallowed painfully, and she gestured towards the water. Slowly, eyes always darting back to her, he poured some in a cup and took a tiny sip. He gulped down the rest and panted for a moment.

"D-Doug Rattmann," he murmured, eyes downcast.

She was looking at his dirty gray jacket. Up close she could see that there had been something embroidered on the left breast, but it had been picked out.

'How long were you in Aperture?'

He flinched as he read it. "…Just before we started work on the Handheld Portal Device project," he muttered. "Before the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System was activated."

She stared at him. Suddenly he dropped the notepad and fled to the door, but stopped there. He muttered frantically, and Chell caught a bit of it.

"…No, I can't… I know! But she'll… I can't. No." He glanced back at her. She was watching him calmly. "Of course I – Well, yes. But… You wouldn't. No, you can't – Wait, wait! All right. Just… don't."

Haltingly, he crept back towards her. When he got close, she slowly held out the notepad, and he took it.

'What did you do there?'

He cringed. "I was hired to work on the Handheld Portal Device," he mumbled hollowly. "Temporarily."

Things began to fall together in Chell's mind. 'I thought everyone died.'

"I was the only one."

She couldn't help it. A smile spread over her face, and she quickly wrote, 'You wrote on the walls and painted the pictures!'

He froze, unable to look away from the small paper.

She sprang up and snatched the pad from him, making him leap and stumble back.

"I'm sorry," he ground out, and doubled over in a fit of coughing. "I'm so… so sorry."

She shoved the paper in front of him.

'I've always wanted to meet you. Without you I would have been trapped there.'

He shook his head quickly. "No. I never stepped out to help you. I'm a coward."

She scribbled quickly. 'You saved me and gave me hope. I can't thank you enough.'

He stared at the paper and gave a strangled cough.

She scrutinized his face in the flickering candlelight, making him intensely uncomfortable. His eyes darted back towards a voice only he heard.

Chell paused, watching him. 'How do you hear your cube?'

His face crumpled when he read this, and he turned away, gasping out deep, ragged breaths. He shook his head, quick and emphatic.

When she touched his shoulder to get his attention, he jumped and scrambled to back into the wall. She held up a hand to him, backing away again, then stretched out her notepad without moving towards him. It took him a long time to come back close enough to take it.

'Can your cube hear mine?'

He stared at the paper, then at her.

"You… believe me," he said softly, gaping at her with a kind of awe.

She shrugged. It wouldn't be the strangest thing she had ever seen.

Finally he shook himself and looked over his shoulder. Then he glanced back at Chell. "…She says… your cube… doesn't speak," he said cautiously.

Chell looked at her Companion Cube, then gave it a light pat. She turned to him and gestured to herself.

"But she watches. And listens. Like… like you." A shy smile twitched across his face. She smiled back a bit.

As the blizzard violently tore around the house, Doug haltingly told Chell about the construction of the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System, how it killed more and more people, no matter what they did, how everyone kept trying to control it, when it COULDN'T be controlled… How he had run and hidden and survived, then had to find the others' remains. Finding her file, finding HER. Watching her, always. Wanting to help, but afraid to step in. The guilt and shame poured out between them, and she sat and listened.

His stomach was growling, and she pushed the bread and apples towards him. He hesitated, but when she took some for herself, he broke down and took a nibble. Before he realized it, he had finished the loaf and three mealy apples. She gestured that she could get more, but he quickly shook his head.

After putting her back in cryosleep and crawling into the same relaxation pod she had previously occupied, he honestly hadn't known if he would ever wake up again. The wound from the turrets had never healed properly, and he had woken to find ancient blood covering the lower portion of the pod. He had crawled through the tunnels of the gargantuan facility in a haze, guided only by his Companion Cube. She had kept him safe, and on the right track, until finally he reached the surface. He hadn't exited through the shed in the wheat field, but through an old maintenance entrance covered in debris.

At this point he was sitting across from her, leaning slightly on his Companion Cube. The room was warm now, warmer than he'd been in a long time.

'How did you find me here?' Chell wrote.

He grimaced. "I… just kept walking. There are other towns, closer… to Aperture. But I knew you must be alive. I… I had to find you." He looked up at her, and his eyes were tired. "Did you know… I lived here once?"

Her eyebrows rose a little.

"When I was young. For a while. I… moved around a lot."

Chell watched him for a moment, then wrote, 'You remember your life before Aperture.'

"…You don't," he responded, not quite a question.

She shook her head and drew her thumb and forefinger together. 'Not much. Just flashes here and there.'

His eyes dropped to his cube for a while. Now and then he would nod or shake his head.

Chell stood slowly and went to feed the fire. When she glanced back, his head was dipping down to rest on the cube, eyes closed. She was pondering whether or not to wake him so he could at least find a more comfortable position when he slid down to curl around the cube, completely dead to the world. She pulled out some extra blankets and lay one over him. The other two she left folded, and tucked them up against his cube. She paused, staring at the heart on the top. Then she gave it a light pat, and one for her own cube as she headed to the blanket-covered mat she called a bed. She had never slept so close to another person. But she was still confident that she could take him down in a fight, and besides, she wasn't afraid of him. She fell asleep to the sound of his breathing across the room.

When she woke up, Doug was sprawled on his back, one arm still curled around his cube. She ate another soft apple and looked outside. Everything was covered in thick whiteness. She had enough food and firewood to last for a few days, at least. …Even with another person. And if he started eating more regularly than she suspected he did, he wasn't likely to wolf down as much in one sitting.

Chell stopped where she stood. She slowly turned to look at the exhausted man on the floor. He looked somehow as if he should be snoring loudly, but he barely made a sound. Another defense that kept him alive in Aperture, no doubt.

…It was one thing to want to help someone, to offer food and shelter at a time when he would have died overnight without it. But the thought of him eating habitually felt a bit… long-term.

Of course, there was no question of sending him out into the snow today. It would be pointless to let him stay here overnight just to kick him out and have him freeze to death within an hour.

Maybe… if he wanted… he could stay a while.


End file.
